trying my best

not good but doing it anyway!

[serenlitost]

☆ “You know that already, don’t you?”

Finally done! I’m proud of how it came out, I hope you like it :D

As always, go read the original “Midnight strangers” on AO3 by @seriouslycalamitous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65744443/chapters/169312171

Will I do more of these in the future? Hopefully yes, I have a storyboard in my notes for another scarian fic and the notes for my dnd campaign comic, so look forward to that (it’ll probably take a while tho, cuz uni)

[lectorel]

Rabbit Heart

(Inspired by the Mage in a Wolf Pack original fic series on AO3, you'll need to read a few of those first.)

Jaime . . . floats. One step out and to the left of himself, ice-numbed to sensation. Wake. Work. Obey. Cast, in the short moments when he was given back a sliver of his strength. Bow. Obey. Eat. Sleep. Wake. Lay Limp. Wash. Work.

Hums, sometimes, tuneless little things that taste like memories. ‘digger, digger, singer of songs…’

This doesn't change, when he is passed to other masters. The lines change, but the pattern stays the same. Wake. Cast. Work. Strip. Obey. Sleep. Wake. Eat. Jaime exists entirely unmoored from time and place, in the smothering fog of over-extension and apathy. 

He rarely notices when one master becomes another. Mostly when the new had a taste for flesh the old had not, or the reverse. His current masters are kind, in the careless way hunters are prone to. A person is given orders. An object is used. There is power in breaking a person to heel, but all ruining a tool proves is carelessness. 

If he is sick, if he’s injured, he’s likelier to make mistakes or mishandle a spell. So he is fed, and given clothes to cover his body, and treated if he is injured. He is a useful thing, to be maintained and then forgotten when unneeded. 

Like all tools, there are some uses he is better suited to than others. Jaime is not allowed to heal - no hunter would be careless enough to let a mage, even a collared one, work magics on their bodies. But neither is he required to bind and chain unwilling captives. Instead, he is set to warding chicken coops, warming water for the wash, repairing damaged walls and decaying fences. Simple things that require neither force nor strength of will.

They don't travel - or at least never enough of them at one time that he is left without supervision or required to accompany them. Jaime has never bothered tracking the passage of time, but he thinks he's been in this place for a while. He mostly remembers now how to get from one building to another, can plan a path to accomplish his duties without too much doubling back.

It is an easy life, and Jaime knows that easy never lasts. Sooner or later, he will be put to the work he was first collared for. There is no point in waking.

Jaime floats, and his body obeys.

***

Runa had noticed the problem by mid-summer, but back then, she’d believed her pack would fix it. It’s nearly winter now, and her faith has run out.

The adults of the pack refuse to see it, refuse to understand, because the mage had hurt uncle Dimitri. They were angry, and they wanted someone to blame. The mage was an easy target. But all the pretending in the world couldn’t change the truth. And the truth was, he’d never acted out of malice.

Malice would require the mage to remember people existed when they left his line of sight. The mage had to be ordered to bathe himself. and occasionally ended up frozen in place because he'd forgotten what he was ordered to do and the collar’s bindings forbade him from acting without permission. All he’d done was obey his Alpha, the same as Runa is supposed to obey Lada.

He isn’t capable of intending harm. There’s something fragile in him, like the lightning-struck tree Runa found two summers ago. From afar, it had seemed healthy, as if it had escaped the storm with only a few branches lost. But when she’d gotten closer, she’d seen the long seam where sap had boiled and split the tree open from the inside. It had survived the first winter, but it’d never woken after the second.

The mage, too, is slowly dying, and Alpha had ordered everyone not to help him.

Runa had never disobeyed her parents or her alpha. Not really. Little rules sometimes, like going to bed on time or taking turns, but never the big rules. The ones that even the adults had to follow. And the rules about the mage were big rules - Alpha had explained that to all the puppies in very careful words.

But Runa had already known the rules - if you can’t kill something cleanly, you don’t kill it at all. If someone isn’t pack, you don’t bring them into the den. If someone wants to leave, you have to let them. If a person’s hurt, you need to help them.

Alpha is the one who broke the rules first, her and all the other adults; she put the mage in a collar like it wasn’t the exact thing the pack had killed hunters for doing to uncle Dimitri. Alpha is wrong, and she keeps pretending she’s not, keeps saying that the mage is an exception.

It’s dangerous to have magic now, in the Heartstone pack. Alpha has made it that way. And Runa is the only one who knows it’s Toby, not the mage, who keeps the candles lit all night.

There are uses for collared mages. Alpha made that very clear. Runa isn’t going to let the pack collar a second one.

Alpha makes the mage sleep in the storage shed, with only a worn fur to keep out the cold. With the first storm of winter threatening, the pack will either need to move him inside soon, or let him freeze. The adults are still fighting about it, which makes now the only chance Runa has to get them all away.

The night is dark, only a single sliver of moon to light it, and the wind cuts through Runa’s sleeping shirt like a knife. Toby whines in his sleep, but doesn’t wake. The shed door isn’t locked properly - Runa jammed it a few days ago, when she oiled the door hinges to keep them from creaking. She slips inside, soft as a fieldmouse through grass, and shakes the mage awake. 

“We’re going now, sweetheart,” Runa says softly, pulling the mage to his feet with her free hand. “Can you hide us?”

The mage blinks, once, twice, eyes only half-focused on Runa and Toby’s sleeping form. Runa holds up the command token, thumb pressed to the center symbol, and pushes her will into it. Unlock. Not a full release - only the collar’s keybinding, locked away among Alpha’s things,  could do that - but enough for something like awareness to flood into the mage’s expression. 

“We’re leaving, all three of us,” Runa repeats, and asks a second time, “Can you hide us?”

“. . . You’ll be faster without me,” the mage says, after a long, long moment. “If you steal me, it will be. Bad.”

Runa tilts her head in acknowledgement. “Staying would be worse.”

 “If you do, when they catch you, they will kill you,” He looks at Runa for a single second, gaze darting to Toby’s sleeping form and then away before she can interpret the expression he wore. Runa hears an echo of familiar candace in those words, and wonders if he’s ever heard the rabbit song, before the Alpha chained him. 

“They might,” she acknowledges. Six months ago she couldn’t have imagined the possibility. Now, though, all her certainties about her family have been shattered. However - “But first, they must catch me.”

[lectorel]

[Present Day]

"I cry challenge," a rough voice says, from the far side of the clearing. "Against Lada, alpha of the Hearthstone Pack, and all who follow her."

The crowd parts, and a weathered figure draws to the front. She sets her gaze on Lada and Khalida, and growls, low in her throat. Tall, sun-dark, rawboned in the way of pups not quite done growing, scarring across her lower jaw distorting those familiar features.

"I cry challenge," Runa repeats, "against your cruelties and your selfish heart. I cry challenge against your hypocrisies. Three times I say this, and three times I demand your answer."

Lada stands frozen, staring at their pack's long missing pup. It's Khalida who at last provides the challenge's traditional response. "Three times you cry challenge, and three times we will answer, that all may see and judge our honesty. Hearthstone denies these claims. What proof have you to offer?"

"What proof have I? A collar and a length of rope." Runa snaps, stepping closer, never breaking eye contact with Lada. "A child's fear and a slave's scars, years old and still unfaded. Answers to the questions you never cared to ask. With this I charge you - slave taker, forger of chains." Runa's eyes flare green-golden as she takes a last step to stand mere inches from Lada. "Did you see his scars and blame him anyway? Or are you so blind to think that anything less than a cage means a man is free?"

[Four Months Ago]

The River West pack is the smallest of those that live on the Tethra Mountain range. A teenage alpha, a soft-spoken, scarred human mage, and a half-grown spell-flinger pup, who hold one of the western springs and a scant half-dozen miles of scrubland and alpine meadows.

Katerin is perhaps unreasonably fond of them. Runa is a strong pup, principled and brave, willing to reject her natal pack for their sins against a stranger. That sort of courage is rare, and she would very much like to bring them into the Windmeer pack. The two mages she so jealously guards would be no small prize either.

It makes the missive she received, sent through the slow and winding trails of cross-pack communication, particularly, if blackly, humorous. Hearthstone, at home in the gentle east, where the land is as kind as the human inhabitants hostile, claimed two of their pups had been abducted by a mage. Gentle, fragile, human Jaime, with the choke chain still around his throat and his cautious, heartworn hope – that is who Hearthstone is blaming for Runa’s actions.

Even Tobio, tiny wildfire that he is, would be a more believable culprit. At least he had demonstrated some hint of personality when the wayward pups had first arrived. It had taken several long months for Runa to coax Jaime into some semblance of personhood, and even now the mage was prone to falling back into his listless, waking sleep.

Katerin is half-tempted to send an emissary back, just to hear what tale Heartstone has spun to cover the truth. Perhaps they'd say that Jaime is secretly a spirit, guilty of beguiling sweet, naive Runa. Or maybe he somehow slipped past his choke chain, against all known rules of magic, and completed an arcane ritual to bind the two pups to his will. She can only imagine the sort of knots Hearthstone would need to twist themselves into to make their claim plausible.

In the end, though, she lives in the west. The people of the wolf lands don't have time to play the sorts of games the eastern packs so evidently amuse themselves with. So at the next moot, she passes along a delicate roll of birch-bark, to be sent back the way Heartfire's message came:

The pup knew what she was doing when she took them. And you know what you did to make her. You'll find no allies here.

[notgilderoylockhart]

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I bound Graflin Woods by flames_dance

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I’ve been experimenting with chapter title pages and borders and frames and found this one on Pinterest and thought it was perfect for this project. I used the wrap text function in Microsoft Word and created my own wrap points. Then I just kept copying and pasting that one for every chapter. Also, it’s such a rush when you get the page numbering correct on the first try, especially with odd section breaks.

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I also decided I wanted to try some embroidery and just quickly whipped up a few florals using a French knot and some running stitches. I used the cap of a bottle to draw a perfect circle, glued the embroidery cloth to the inside of it and used some cotton wool to make it all look a little more 3 dimensional and soft. Then I glued another 1mm thick board to the back of that to keep it in place. I used 2 1mm boards for the cover, and a 2.5mm board for the back and spine parts. I also used my cricut to cut a little frame for this little window.

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I bought this super fancy wrapping paper in a museum in Gothenburg and while I can’t recommend using regular wrapping paper for endpapers this high quality museum gift shop paper is perfect for my binds. I’m overall super happy with how it turned out, especially the embroidery on the cover. Definitely check out the entire mage in a wolf pack series if you’re on the hunt for some good old fashioned angsty hurt/comfort.

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[alathesmugcat]

A little something I sketched, inspired by the Original Works of mage in a wolfpack on Ao3!

I started with this sketch and then did some editing on the picture until I liked the colors!

[daisybirb]

Building Blocks - Ch. 1

“Mage in a Wolf Pack” Series

Summary:

It takes time for a pack to settle into a new normal, and recovery is a process. Jaime doesn’t know how to live normally anymore, but the pack is there for him.

A series of short stories following Jaime’s time with the pack, with ups and downs and in-betweens, as well as bonus content. Technically follows up after “Missing Pieces”, but can be more or less read anywhere between the “Wolf Pack” continuities.

TW: Implied Past Abuse; Internalized victim blaming;

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36133858

Art by my best friend and amazing artist!

***

Jaime still doesn’t quite understand just what changed.

Ever since that day on the river bank, things with the hearthstone pack have been… Different.

Afficher davantage

[magziemakeswhatever]

Whumpay day 7- (alt prompts) Passing out from pain & Fever induced delirium

Continuation of my Day 6 fill. This got away from me.

Rowan ran through the forest, sticks and rocks digging into her paws, she didn't care. She couldn't let herself slow down, no matter how frantically her heart was beating, or how much she panted and gasped for air. Her limbs were still sore from her most recent growth spurt, and now they were all different lengths than she was used to, making running quickly even harder.

She had just gotten a little lost, was all. She wasn't even that far away from the den. That's why the trap had been so unexpected. She hadn't been caught in it for very long when the man had come to check his traps.

Well. He said they were werewolf hunter's traps, in a way that made it sound like they weren't his traps. Even though he had been the one checking them. Maybe he just lived nearby, and knew where the hunters set their traps, and he sabotages them by releasing all the wolves they caught.

Yeah. That was probably it.

Coming up with that theory made room to focus on other thoughts, which were, somewhat unfairly, running through her head faster than she could run through the underbrush.

But the most important thought was a constant ringing alarm she could not ignore.

THERE ARE HUNTERS! THERE ARE HUNTERS WITHIN WANDERING DISTANCE OF THE DEN!

She was coming up on the edge of the Hearthstone pack's territory. She barked as loudly as she could, which was honestly pitiful with how winded she was. Her legs were turning to mush, and if she thought about them at all, she was sure they would give out under her before she made it to anyone who could help, even as she could smell the breakfast Mirza was cooking.

Rowan tumbled out of her shift next to the cooking fire and put her hands on her knees, heaving.

"Mirza!" she huffed. "Where's Lada? Its—" breathing was painful, "super important."

"Pup, what—?" The older woman trailed off as she saw the state Rowan was in. "I'll go get her, you sit tight. Drink some water." She handed Rowan a water gourd as she stood up. Rowan nodded, and allowed herself to fall to the ground. She spilled a lot of the water as her hands shook, both from the exertion and the adrenaline flooding out of her. But it was cool, and her throat was so dry.

"Rowan?" Mirza was on her way back, Lada right at her side. Her eyes skated right over where Rowan was a pile of limbs on the ground.

"Here," she groaned, then forced herself to stand to greet her pack alpha properly, even if Lada was her aunt. This was important, so she should act accordingly. She bowed her head, exposing the back of her neck. "Alpha," she started.

"Where have you been?" Lada said, gripping the back of her neck, accepting the formal greeting. She smushed Rowan's face into her sternum. Then she grabbed her shoulders and shoved her away to inspect her for injuries. Rowan was back to being smushed before she knew it, though. "Dimitri is getting frantic, you have been gone for who knows how long, we woke up and you weren't there, and you didn't tell anyone where you were going!"

Rowan used to think Lada and Dima worried too much. Their parents, her grandparents, had been killed by hunters. But that was so long ago, no one had seen any hunters, and hardly any humans at all in Rowan's whole life.

She did not think they worried too much now.

"I just wanted to go for a run before it got hot," she started, wanting to cushion the bad news with something normal, something reasonable.

"You have to tell someone!" Lada started on her normal lecture. "There are bears out there, there could be—" She cut herself off. She must have seen something in Rowan's face.

"Hunters," Rowan said softly, finishing Lada's sentence and confessing all in one word.

The blood drained from the alpha's face.

"Oh, gods," Mirza gasped. She was covering her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. She was old enough to remember Hearthstone's last interactions with werewolf hunters. She was one of their oldest pack members, in part because so many had died during the last times hunters had come to these woods.

Rowan had never really considered what that meant. She knew hunters were dangerous, of course, but they had always seemed so far off, as real of a threat as ghosts. No one had seen a hunter in twenty years, not even any of nomadic packs they traded with. When she was younger, it had seemed so long ago, and then she had stopped really thinking about it.

"They're really close, maybe a mile or two west—"

"How close did you get to them, they didn't see you did they?" Lada was starting to shake.

Rowan gulped. "I, uh, got… Igotcaughtinoneoftheirsnares." She didn't want to look at Lada's face. If she did, she didn't know how fast she'd be able to get out the rest of her information.

"A nice man found me, and let me out!"

"What." Lada sounded dangerous.

"He told me that it was a hunter's trap, and he cast a spell on me to keep me safe from them."

"You let an unknown mage cast a spell on you? Who knows what spell that was!"

Rowan's stomach sank. What if it wasn't a protection spell at all?? What if it was a tracking spell that would lead a whole camp full of hunters straight to their den?

"It's alright, pup," Lada said, softening her voice a little. There was still a hard edge to it. She ran her fingers through Rowan's hair. "Mirza, call a meeting. Rowan, go get some breakfast."

"What? I can help? You expect me to eat at a time like this?"

"Pup, right now, you need to keep your strength up. I have to make a plan, and inform the adults of the situation. If we have any more questions, someone will come get you."

Actually… breakfast didn't sound too bad. And Rowan's knees were knocking together from the adrenaline crash, and the idea of explaining the events (and her mistakes) of the morning did sound really awful. She nodded into Lada's chest, where she was being half smushshed again.

~~~~

Eskender had caned Jaime's legs raw, and left him tied to a fence post in the summer sun to burn, but neither of those punishments were as poetic as sewing his mouth shut for using his voice to protect a wolf. Jaime tried to be grateful that the creativity had stopped there, but it was exceedingly difficult to dredge up any feelings at all when every twitch of his face had his lips in agony. He was basically one solid mass of pain at this point.

The hunters had taken a break for lunch, after the mouth thing, before the caning, and he supposed, during the sunburn, and someone, he hadn't been paying enough attention to tell who, had asked about how Jaime was supposed to eat or drink without a mouth. Eskender had responded, "He can eat again when he earns back his mouth privileges." That had gotten a round of raucous laughter. It wasn't even really a joke. It was probably Dilip who asked. Very food motivated, Dilip.

They mostly left him to roast, but after dinner, after most of the hunters had headed off to bed, a couple drunkenly stumbled over to him. Tulio and Clem, who hadn't really had a chance to torment him today. Joy.

"Thirsty, little mage?" He sneered.

Jamie was half kneeling, half sprawled out, his arms wrapped around a fence post. His hands were bound with a thick rope, in between the rails, so he couldn't move away, even if he had the energy to stand up. Tulio grabbed a fistful of Jaime's hair and yanked his head back, so he was staring up and behind at the two hunters. It, like everything, Jaime was finding, tugged at the stitches. He swallowed a wince, because that would also tug at the stitches. Eskender really out did himself this time.

Clem was fumbling with a water skin, his drunk brain making his fingers uncoordinated. Jamie closed his eyes. there was nothing he could do to prevent this from happening.

Sure enough, as soon as Clem could figure out the impossibly difficult cork, warm water poured all over Jamie's face. The only orifice it got in was his nose, obviously, which made his instincts want to splutter and cough, which he suppressed as best he could. It didn't even do him the service of washing the dried blood off his chin. It just sort of, re-hydrated it, made it tacky again.

Clem must have been really wasted, because that simple cruelty sent him to a laughing fit so boisterous, it sent him into a coughing fit. Tulio slapped his back good-naturedly, ground the thick sole of his boot into Jamie's calf, and half- dragged Clem back to the tents.

The not-coughing and the thought of water had brought up a roiling nausea; the heat of the day, combined with the lack of water, plus some minor blood loss was beginning to add up to severe dehydration. He clenched his teeth and prayed that the dry heaving would stay dry heaving. That was one bonus to the emptiness of his stomach he supposed.

He leaned into the fence post, trying to get as comfortable as possible without aggravating his sunburn, or welts from the caning. Distantly, he was worried that the only moisture on his skin was Clem's gift. Something about the lack of sweat was bad…

Maybe everything would be better when he woke up.

It had never been the case before, but there was a first time for everything.

~~~

Jaime dreamt of carnage. A bloodbath where the hunters lost for once. That was nice. Even if sleeping didn't fix any of his problems, it was a nice gift from his brain, or whatever god was in charge of wishful thinking.

~~~

Jaime was freezing.

So, probably not in hell then. He was pretty sure that was supposed to be hot. And, probably not the hunter's camp, either. He knew that was hot. Maybe hell was freezing if you died from heat stroke. for contrast. He thought he heard the gods were funny like that.

This was definitely not heaven, though. Even excluding how much pain, however dulled , he was in, no one complicit in as many werewolf deaths as he was would ever make it to heaven.

He hoped all those wolves were in whatever heaven they believed in.

Jaime was on an incredibly soft… Bed? Rug? Cloud? Maybe he was in some strange limbo, where he was aloud to touch such incredible things, but he had to be in pain, and freezing cold.

And wet? A water droplet ran down the small of his back, sending a shiver up his spine, which sent a flinch through his whole body.

Yeah. In exchange for this awesome cloud, he just had to be cold and wet and in pain. That was probably a better deal than hell. It was better than being with the hunters, so far. He was always in pain there, and sometimes he was cold and wet (or cold or wet), but he never got to lay on clouds.

This was probably the best heaven he could get, Maybe saving that puppy this morning had bumped him up morally enough that the gods gave him this. That would be cool.

Jaime was settling back into his cloud, content to drift for the next part of eternity, when he slowing became aware of a quiet, persistent, thump, thump, thump.

Jaime cracked open an eyelid.

Thump, thump, thump.

His eye roved over the— surprisingly normal, cozy looking— room, and landed on the source of the sound.

Thump, thump, thump.

His heart sank.

It was the puppy from this morning. They didn't get away. They were dead. Here with Jaime. He must have infected them with his guilt just by touching them! Or— the spell he cast on them. Was that possible? Did he doom this innocent child to this strange afterlife, just by casting a spell meant to protect them? This place was fine, great, even, for someone like Jaime, who deserved far worse, but someone as sweet as them? They should be in a much better place.

Oh. Apparently it was possible to cry in heaven.

The pup tilted their head inquisitively. If wolves head eyebrows, Jaime was sure this one would have one raised. They stood up from where they had been lying on the floor— the thumping had been their tail against the ground, at least the didn't seen too distraught— and shook themself out, fur puffing up. They padded over to Jaime's cloud, and jumped up to join him.

They settled down gently, not jostling to cloud or any of his injuries, and cocked their head again.

"I'm so sorry," Jaime croaked. The pup's head tilted the other way. They didn't know why he was apologizing? "For getting you killed, and making you come with me to this weird afterlife. It's nice for me, but you should have lots of space to run around, and other wolves to be around. If I had known casting that spell would cause this, I wouldn't have done it." He sniffed. His mouth was sore, but no longer stitched together. That would have made apologizing much harder. "I just wanted you to get home safe."

He didn't think it was possible for a wolf to look so… baffled. The pup opened their mouth as if to speak, seemingly remembered they couldn't do that with a wolf's vocal chords and—

"Rowan!" said a new voice. Don't shift on the bed, you'll jar his injuries."

An older man came into view, his arms full of wet cloth? He set them in a bucket near Jaime's cloud— bed, apparently— and picked up the pup, who must be Rowan. He set her down, and almost instantly the wolf was replaced by a young girl.

"You are not what I expected an angel to to be," was the first thought Jaime had. ANd was also the first thing out of his mouth. Shit, that was probably insanely rude. "Uh. You're highness."

The angel put a hand on Jaime's forehead. It was rough in the way a hand gets from decades of work, but string to soften again in the way and old person's skin becomes so wrinkled its soft, like a piece of paper crumpled and flattened out repeatedly.

"Your fever hasn't broken yet," said the angel. "I'm here to replace your cold compresses, though, so that's alright for now."

"Ash," the pup— er, girl— whispers. "He thinks he's dead. He thinks I'm dead."

"I heard that," Ash the Angel said. An alliterative name. Maybe all angels have "A" names. He was taking off whatever was making Jaime cold and wet. It made a squelching sound as Angel Ash dropped it in another bucket.

"Hey!" Rowan said. "How come Ash gets to be an angel, but I'm just dead?"

"Maybe because your name doesn't start with 'A'."

"What?" She tilted her head, just like she did in her wolf form.

"What?" Jaime said. What was unclear? It seemed like Rowan knew Ash. Maybe he had been part of her pack hen they were alive, and Ash got to ascend to angel-hood because he had an "A" name. Jaime didn't make the rules.

"Rowan, your friend here is not going to be much of a conversation partner until this fever breaks. If you want to help, here." Angel Ash handed Rowan one of the cloths from the first bucket. she laid it gently on his neck and—

COLD.

Everything else shorted out. If Jaime thought he was cold before, maybe he didn't know the meaning of the word. "Angel Ash, your majesty, I'm actually cold enough, thank you."

"You're not." Ash kept covering him in frost. "You're burning up. We have to keep drawing the heat out. Are you nauseous at all? Do you think you could keep down some water?"

Suddenly, water was all Jaime could think about he nodded. Rowan brought him a small cup, but before he could bring it to his mouth (which was a minor ordeal, because he was laying on his stomach and it hurt to move at all) Ash said, "Sip. it. Slowly. We don't want that coming back up. It would be bad enough, but i really don't want bile getting in those injuries on your lips."

Jaime started to sip. Slowly. He barely had a mouth full down (split into three sips, he was being good) when Ash said, "take a breath to let that settle. While you wait, you could tell us your name." It was almost a question, but not quite. He swallowed what was left of his third sip.

"Jaime."

"Jaime. Nice to meet you." It was maybe the first time someone else had said his name in… seven years. "I'm Ash, that's Rowan."

Jaime nodded in greeting.

"Alright, hows that settling?"

The water was hitting his stomach hard. He wanted more, desperately, but Ash was right. Throwing up at all would be miserable, but with the state of his mouth? One more sip. He savored it. Swallowed it slowly.

Ash took the cup. "Alright. Get some sleep. We'll talk more when that fever breaks.

~~~

Jaime isn't sure what's happening. He remembers strange dreams: A bloody one of all the hunters being slaughtered by wolves, a reversal of how things always went,and one of… heaven?

He clings to sleep longer than he should. If Eskender finds him still asleep, he'll be in for it, but to live in a world where where none of the hunters do? Its too tempting to resist.

Thump, thump, thump.

Strange, that had been part of the dream. He was half curious was making that sound in real life.

"Ash, I think he's waking up for real!" a young voice excitedly yells. "Jaime, I have soup for you! That's like water and food at the same time, and you need both."

That did sound good. He opened his eyes.

"Here you go!"

A wooden bowl of savory smelling broth was shoved into his vision. Luckily, it wasn't very full, otherwise it wold have sloshed out over the sides.

"Mirza said this is good for you, and it tastes good, which is lucky for you, cause a lot of things she says are good for you are kinda nasty. Don't tell her I said that!" The young voice is Rowan, the pup from his dream. And he was still laying on the cloud from his dream. He must still be dreaming. Right? But this all felt so real…

"And she says if you can keep this down for a while, you can have more, and maybe some bread, too, which would be awesome for you, cause Mirza makes the best bread in the world. She's a great cook, but vegetables are kinda gross, and even the best cook in the world can't fix mashed squash." Rowan paused to take a breath. "Well? Are you going to eat it? Cause Ash says we can have a real conversation once you eat."

"This isn't a real conversation?" He managed to say.

"Eat," Rowan said, drawing out the word. "I'll be quiet." To prove it, she shape shifted into a wolf and jumped up onto the bed. She stared at him with her massive blue wolf eyes. She prodded the bowl with her nose. Jaime took the hint.

The broth was incredible. Some sort of animal bones, and some vegetables, but nothing Jaime could think about right now. It was rich and salty. It stung the holes in his mouth, but it was so worth it. Maybe this wasn't a dream. He'd never been able to taste something in a dream before. It was gone too soon, but Jaime knew he shouldn't push his stomach's limits. It was good to start slow.

Rowan hopped off the bed and shifted back to human. She took a deep breath and stood up as straight as she could.

"I wanted to say thank you for saving my pack. You let me know there were hunters, and I let my pack know, and they had a chance to plan, instead of the hunters just finding us. And your magic you cast on me helped them track you, and they knew who helped me, and not to hurt you! Lada— that's our alpha— she said that we'll do everything we can to get you anywhere you want to go, but I want to thank you for getting me out of the trap, so as long as you're staying with us, you can have all my deserts, and I'll do all your chores."

That was a lot to process.

"That is very kind of you, Rowan," Ash said as he entered the room. "But right now Jaime is too sick for desert or chores."

"What?" Rowan squawked in outrage. "That's all I've got!"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something else. Can you run and tell Lada that our guest is awake?"

"But he just woke up! You said I could talk to him!"

"There will be plenty of time for talking. And take that bowl back to Mirza."

Rowan sighed, but picked up the bowl, and headed for the door. "I'll be back." She said half like a threat, and half like a request.

Ash was silent.

"Um. Ok?" Jaime said.

That was what she was waiting for. Rowan grinned, and took off, wooden bowl in hand.

Once they were alone, Ash sat down on a short three legged stool. "Jaime. I want to talk to you about removing the collar."

Jaime's mouth fell open. "What?"

"The only reason it's still on you is that i have heard that sometimes, when a mage has been collared for a long period of time, the shock of all of their magic returning at once can make them sick. With you already being sick, I didn't want to risk it. So, my question to you is this: do you you feel well enough for us to take it off?"

Jaime could only gape at him. It sounded too good to be true, there had to be some kind of trick—-

"You saved our Rowan. And by sending her to warn us, the whole Hearthstone pack. Taking off your collar is the literal least we can do."

Jaime nodded. He did feel better, but he also couldn't pass up this chance. Ash pick up a pair of heavy scissors, probably typically used for some incredibly benign task, like cutting bandages.

"Its going to be tight for a second," Ash said. Jaime nodded again, and very bravely didn't panic when Ash tugged on the collar to get the scissors in.

And with one solid shtck, all of his magic came rushing in.

It was overwhelming, but in the way a hot bath is after a long day of playing in the snow. Tingly, and burning, but then, just right.

Ash handed him the collar. The source of so much pain. The reason so many wolves were dead, reduced to an inert scrap of leather that fit in the palm of his hand.

In his first act of free magic in over seven years, he burns it to nothing.

[magziemakeswhatever]

Whumpay Day 6- Mouth sewn shut

(Fanfiction of the same Origional story I was inspired by on day one, Mage in a Wolf Pack. Basically, Jaime is a mage enslaved by werewolf hunters wh have locked [most] of his magic away with a collar.)

There was a pup in the trap.

It was Jaime's job to check the werewolf traps this morning, and every day he prayed to anything that would listen that they would all be empty, but to day the worst had happened. A tiny puppy, with big blue eyes, caught and struggling in the snare Jaime had been forced to set.

He looked behind himself, listened for the hunters. For at least the moment, they were alone.

Jaime worked as quickly as he could to let the pup out gently. He could say that it had been triggered, but whatever had done it escaped, that's what took extra time, he had to reset it. It was even technically true.

As he worked, he whispered, "You have to run as fast as you can. These are werewolf hunter's traps. Go home, and warn your pack." It wasn't enough. What if the little thing couldn't make it home without being caught again?

Jaime remembered an idea he had had years ago, but never had an opportunity to try.

The mage collar that the hunters used to bind his magic made it impossible for him to cast offensive spells on others (without their permission), or protective spells on himself (theoretically he could with their permission, but they'd never let him anyway). What it did alow was casting wards. Apparently whatever evil mage enchanted the collar figured that an enslaved mage casting a ward of their own free will was nothing to worry about.

Jaime had never had a reason to test if it worked on other living creatures until now, though.

As he finished getting the pup out of the snare, he ran a hand down their spine, straightening out the fur that had been ruffled by their struggling. "Remember, run as fast as you can home. But first, will you let me cast a spell on you, so that no hunters can find you?"

The pup looked up at him, tilted their head adorably, and studied him. After a long moment, they decided that it was worth trusting Jaime,and nodded, as well as they could in their wolf form.they put their snout in Jaime's outstretched hand, and licked his palm.

The hot tongue spurred him into action, this moment was nice, but it wouldn't last forever, probably wouldn't even last much longer.

He took his hand back, and made the gestures, and said the incantations his uncle had taught him, had drilled him on for weeks, so much that even now, years later, he could still get them perfect. He had had no reason to cast a protection from tracking ward since the hunters had captured him, but he was glad he had practiced it so much.

The collar made a slight protestation at the casting of a spell without permission, sending a shock through his nerves, but it was gentle compared to resisting casting a spell when he was commanded to.

He backed up from the puppy, and if he hadn't had his eyes on them during the whole casting, he would have no idea where they were. "Go," he said, and they vanished from even his view.

"What the hell was that boy?"

Fuck.

~~~

Eskender had seen Jaime cast the spell. He had dragged him back to the hunter's camp by his hair, and promised "a new punishment."

Jame was so fucked.

"Emelina, Dilip, hold 'im down. Tulio, get me Doc's bag." Eskender was wearing his typical cruel grin, starring down at where Jaime had been wrestled to the dusty ground. He didn't even explain to the other hunters what Jaime had done, why he was being punished, how he was being punished. They were just eager to get in on it, as always.

Before long, Tulio came trotting out with Doc's bag. Jaime hardly had it in him to be curious any more, when whatever punishment would come, no matter if he knew what it was before hand. But the promise of something new did stir up some atrophied sense of curiosity.

Eskender riffled through the bag for a long moment, the dread in Jaime's stomach stretching it even longer, before pulling out a suture needle and thread. Jaime's brain wasn't exactly acting at full efficiency, it took him until Eskender started talk to understand

"Well, boy, can't seem to keep your mouth shut, can you?" The picture was beginning to make itself clear. "And that collar I paid so much for doesn't seem like as much of a deterrent as it once was. I guess we'll just have to make the rules a little more clear." He snapped the thread with his teeth and threaded the needle. "Em, Dil, hold his mouth shut."

Emelina gripped his jaw in one hand, and the top of his head in the other, clacking his teeth together. Dilip pinched his lips closed with one calloused hand, leaving one corner open for Eskender to start with. He crouched down.

"Now, you understand that I don't want to do this to that lovely mouth of yours, but if you can't behave with it, we've got to take more drastic measures."

He started just above Jaime's top lip, on the right side, and back out through the bottom lip, pulling the thick thread taut.

Jaime writhed, thrashed his legs, tried to beg, plead with his eyes, but all the hunters were just gleefully watching Eskender's haphazard handiwork.

"Tulio," Eskender yelled, "get in here and hold these legs down!"

Tulio wasted no time, and was sitting on Jaime's knees before Eskender started his next stitch.

Five in total. Needle in, out, pull thread tight. In, out, pull. The one in the middle was the worst, right in the middle of his Cupid's bow.

Jaime's tears were burning his eyes, and he prayed they wouldn't drip down to his ten new open wounds. Breathing was becoming impossible, between trying not to move his mouth, and the snot building in his nose. He was making a concentrated effort to take shallower, steadier breaths.

Eskender tied a knot in the thread, cruelly tugging on all the stitches at once. Through heavily lidded eyes, Jamie saw him gesture at Tulio, who handed him the bag. Eskender dug around in it for another moment and pulled out a bottle.

"We don't want my lovely work getting infected, now do we?" he said, unscrewing the lid.

Before Jamie could even think to brace himself, Eskender poured a heavy handed splash of whiskey all over Jaime's mouth. His scream pulled at all the stitches, only making things worse. Some of the alcohol got in his nose, in his eyes. He tried to roll himself over, to let gravity direct the whiskey, but he was he was still being straddled by three full grown hunters.

He dropped his head back into the dust. He could only hope that the pup got away. That they made it back to their den safely, where they should have been all along. That he wouldn't see any of their pack mates in the snares tomorrow.

[magziemakeswhatever]

Whumpay 2026 Day 1- Accidentally hurting a friend, PTSD

(This is based on/a fanfic of the Mage in a Wolf Pack series over on ao3. Defintely go check it out, I love it alot, but all you need to know for this is Jaime is a mage who was enslaved by and had his magic controlled by werewolf hunters, and he was eventually rescued by a werewolf pack. And in this, Jaime and Dimitri are both ambiguously young children.)

CW: a bit of suicidal ideation/expecting to die/negotiating for death, references of child abuse

"No, no, no, Dima, wake up wake up wake up!" Jaime frantically shook the wolf pup's shoulder. He hadn't meant to, really, he hadn't, he was just surprised.

Dimitri had been on a bit of a pouncing kick recently. "Hunting practice," he called it. He would stalk the adults of the pack in his wolf form, tail wagging furiously, until "they least expected it," when he would pounce, in all of his fluffy glory.

Jaime had watched nearly every adult in the pack be ambushed like this over the past week, but he never expected to fall victim, too. He thought Dimitri would stick to attacking the grown-ups. But no matter what he thought, Dimitri pounced on him, when he least expected it. And when he startled, he unleashed a massive surge of his newly freed magic, straight into Dimitri's chest.

He was out cold. No matter how much Jaime shook him, he was left holding a limp bundle of fur.

Several bolts of fear paralyzed him at the same moment. One, Dimitri is dead. Two, Jaime killed him. Three, the pack will kill him for this.

Four. They won't.

Surely they have a mage collar they could lock around his neck for the rest of his pitiful life. And he'd deserve it! He proved that he couldn't be trusted to use his magic not to hurt people. He'd killed one of their pups! He killed his best friend! The first person in the world to call Jaime a friend, and he killed him.

His begging for Dimitri to wake up had morphed into wet apologies, his eyes were blurring from tears, and breathing was quickly becoming more effort than it was worth, when he finally had one moment of clarity.

Ash can fix this.

Even if Ash couldn't bring people back to life (which Jaime wouldn't put outside of his abilities), he had let Jaime read his healer books. The first step was to asses the problem, and check for breathing.

Check for breathing.

Gods, how could he have forgotten!

Dimitri was breathing, however weakly, it was steady. Certainly more steady than Jaime's. Thank the gods. Thank Ash.

Next step: find a qualified healer, if at all possible.

It should be. Ash should be in the healer's cabin. Even if finding an adult means Jaime is kissing his freedom goodbye, he has to try. For Dima. Jaime stood on shaking legs, Dimitri cradled in his arms, and made his way towards his damnation, and (hopefully) Dimitri's salvation.

~~~

Ash was minding his own business, taking stock of what herbs he would need to go out to gather soon, with the changing of the seasons making new plants available, when his quiet morning was shattered by a distraught pup.

Well, technically the baby mage wasn't a pup, but as long as his puppy eyes were as effective as they were, Ash would refer to him as such.

"Ash!" was all he could make out through sniffles and sobs, so he put his notes down and rushed out of the back storage room, rather than shouting to the mage to direct him back.

"What—" he started, as he was interrupted by a flurry of cut-off explanations, and his eyes landed on a bundle of pup in the mages arms.

"Dimitri— I didn't mean to, I don't— He scared me!" Jaime stuttered. He took a steadying breath, and mumbled, "He's not dead. But I don't know what to do ."

"Ok," Ash started, trying to push past the innate dread at a mage holding such a still pup, both reeking of magic. He pushed it away. This was a child in his care, who came to him for help after an accident. Jaime trusted him to be able to help. "Ok. Put him on the bed."

Jamie did so, and ran a hand along Dimitri's back, straightening out the fur there.

"What happened?" Ash asked trying to strike a balance with the Professional Healer voice he wanted to fall back to in moments like this, and a softer voice to comfort the crying child. He wasn't sure if he managed, but either way, he needed the information that only Jaime had before he would know how to help.

"I was— Dima pounced on me. I— I wasn't expecting it, and, and—" he sniffled, hard, and wiped his nose across his whole hand. "I hit him with my magic, and I thought he was dead!" The last part was just barely understandable through the sobs.

"Alright, well, he's not, but you figured that out," Ash said, starting to feel for physical injuries under the fur. There was nothing immediately obvious. Maybe smelling salts would wake the pup up, and he could tell Ash what the problem was.

As Ash was considering this, Jaime steeled himself. "Can I at least see if Dima is going to be ok before you kill me?"

Ash's hands froze on Dimitri's head as his own whipped around to the child behind him. "What?"

Jaime took a shaky breath, some of his earlier resolve leaving him. "I know I have to die because I hurt one of your packs pups," he started, tears welling up in his eyes, "But I just want to know he'll be ok first." He looked like he might have wanted to wipe his nose on his hand again, but both were clenched into tight fists at his sides.

Ash's brain had stopped communicating with his mouth. For a small eternity, he couldn't say anything to this child who was so resigned to his own assumed death. Eventually, he managed to get out a breathless,"Kid. No one's going to kill you."

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say. The fear and resignation melted from the mage's face, which might have been good, if it had been replaced with relief. Or any emotion. What was left instead, a was a completely blank face, and a stare into the middle distance.

As concerning as that reaction was, Ash was working on a time crunch with the other hurt child. He didn't want Dimitri to remain unconscious for any longer. Shaking himself, keeping his inner wolf from snarling in frustration at being left to deal with this completely unprepared and alone, he turned to the cabinet and got the smelling salts.

Wafting them under Dimitri's snout did get the pup to stir. "Dima," Ash said softly, "can you shift back so you can talk to me?" If the answer was years, he'd soon have more answers, and it if it was no, he'd know at least one problem for sure. But fortunately, the wolf pup's fur began to recede, leaving a disheveled young boy on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Dimitri groaned, and only thanks to his wolf hearing and reflexes was Ash able to get a bowl under his head before he lost his breakfast.

~~~

After getting the poor concussed prankster (because no, Ash had not forgotten that this whole mess only started because Dimitri tried to scare a severely traumatized, brand new pack mate) settled, Ash could finally turn his attention to said traumatized pack mate.

Still mostly unresponsive, Ash guided Jaime to sit in the chair next to Dimitri's bed. Keeping up his soft, caring for nervous patients voice, Ash said, "Jaime."

As soon as Jaime was able to bring his eyes up to Ash's face, he continued, "Can you tell me why you think I'm going to kill you?"

Jaime cleared his throat. "I hurt one of the pups." Some clarity was returning to his eyes. He brought a hand up to his neck. "Please. Please…" He trailed off, and based on the turn in their earlier conversation that had led to this one, Ash had no idea what Jaime might be trying to ask for.

"Please what, pup?"

There was a slight furrow in Jaime's brow at the endearment. "Please don't collar me again."

"What?" Jaime had been collared? It made sense, but Ash had assumed that he was simply young enough that the hunters had been able to... persuade him to help them using simpler methods. Ash was under no illusion that Jaime had been with the hunters willingly (the scars he had seen when the pack had first brought him back from the hunter's camp were enough to convince him of that), but to collar a child. He had heard the sensation of being cut off from one's magic was painful. Disorienting. Like loosing a sense. Like never being able to draw a full breath.

His face must have been making some expression without his permission, because Jaime started speaking, pleading, really, again, faster.

"I know I'm more useful to your pack alive, and you really can't let my magic stay loose, it's too dangerous, but please, sir, please, don't let them collar me again. Maybe you can kill me, you can say it was an accident, please, sir, you're so nice, please—"

"Jaime." The breathless begging cut off with a single word. "No one's going to hurt you—"

"Please!"

"And that includes collaring you!" Ash raised his voice to cut off any more begging for specifically Ash to kill a child. "Dimitri is ok. He will make a full recovery. He is just a little battered, but he will be alright."

Jaime let out a sigh of relief.

"And Jaime." Ash knelt down to be level with the chair. "You are one of the packs pups now."

Jaime's mouth fell open, disbelieving.

"You seem to understand that we take the safety of our pups extremely seriously, but one key detail you appear to have missed is that that includes you now."

It was clear Jaime didn't fully believe him yet. That was alright. They had time, and Ash could recruit some help to convince him. For now though—

"Would you like to say something to Dimitri?"

The young mage nodded. He was a good kid. Now Ash just had to convince him that.

[fanfics-or-dragons]

Mage in a wolf pack

FIC IDEAS

There is an original work universe on AO3 called Mage in a wolf pack. Pretty much the main thing is that a Mage called Jamie is captured by a werewolf pack the wolves think he is a hunter cause he worked with them but in reality, he was a slave to the hunters. Cue misunderstandings and angst.

These fics are so amazing and angsty i love them all but there is only like 30 of them total and i literally squeel every time a new one apears. The people who write them are amazing.

Now i take like years to write a fic if i ever finish one enough to feel like posting it so i am posting all my ideas here. If Anyone wants to steal it and write it i would be delighted to read it.

1. Jamie has a little sibling who is a werewolf that the hunters also kidnapped.

a. Were the sibling is obviously attached to Jamie and says hes their brother but they think Jamie tricked the kid into and try to break the brainwashing they think happened.

b. Or Jamie is worried the wolves will take their anger out on their sibling and they pretned not to know them. This could go on were the sibling sneaks Jamie out of the Wolf camp and they hunt them down.

2. The hunters had captured another young human mage and were forcing Jamie to train them in magic so they could have a larger operation. And while all the angst and misunderstanding happen, Jamie is desperetly trying to protect the younger mage that reminds him so much of himself.

3. The wolf pack kept Jamie alive to train a young wolf that is also a mage (i commonly think in these if a mage does not get training the magic will act out and cause problems like spontaneous fires to the point of being dangerous to the mage and everyone around them) Jamie is training them for awhile when they get captured by Hunters that were allied with Eskender and then Jamie is attempting to protect the mage pup while waiting for the Wolfs to come rescue the pup.

4. A soul mate spin on it were Dimitri goes to kill Jamie when they are raiding the camp only to find out they are soul mates.

5. A more heart breaking one were the collar is permanent unless the person who controls it dies and the wolves only find put after trapping Jamie in it that he was a Slave. Adding in the collar auto enforcing commands. And not letting the wearer of the collar be away from the controler for long so who ever put the collar on has to learn to watch what they say to not accidently make it a command.

6. Jamie is the son of a high level royalty or royal advisor and the wolves bring Jamie to them to face trial for his crimes.

7. Jamie is not the only hunter they capture and the wolves lock them all together only to find out the next morning how the hunters treat Jamie.

8. The wolves reconize Jamie was a slave to the hunters but it take extremly long for him to realise they are different but he also doesnt know a life not as a slave and the trauma of the hunters and keeps on acting like a slave even as the wolves tell him he doesnt have to and its a slow process of him learning how to be free.

9. The wolves find out thst Jamie was a slave when hunters capture a bunch of them and Jamie. Jamie manages to get them out but can't leave the hunter camp due to the collar so they have to leave him and come back later to rescue him. Jamie does not think they are coming back.

Again feel free to steal any of these or parts of these or multiple. All i ask is if you post it let me know so i can read it.

[hezraela]

I feel you so much I've been collecting every work from the series, there are a bunch that are not in the main collection ! (for now I'm at 63 or so work in total)

Love the suggestions thanks for feeding this obsession XD

[bamsara]

"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years

[hezraela]

The story you are about to read have been written before... A lot ! And know we are going to write it again ! But different !

[rat-creates]

Dream and Tommy are Techno's cats, and Tommy won't let him take or give Dream anything and not also give it to Tommy. He had to buy sugar pills to hide in Tommy's food or he would try to steal Dream's medicine.

The vets have to pick up and set down Tommy like 5 times so he feels like he's been handled. He's very smug about it. Dream is having a medical emergency

[simplepotatofarmer]

tumblr is really missing out on some notable Weird Guys on youtube. there's one guy who has a crockpot full of perpetual stew that's over a year old. he's currently battling the bitter melon he put in it and people have formed factions in the comments and are asking for dr. pepper.

there's another guy who keeps making foods either Bigger or Smaller depending on the natural size and topped it off with making a Big Grape. he's now moved onto making terrible choices with pizza. everything is way more complicated than it should be and i love it.

but my favorite guy is a random guy who doesn't make anything crazy at all. he makes very normal baking recipes but his energy is genuinely indescribable and it always makes me smile.

there's also a guy who makes Trees Into Things They Shouldn't Be and a guy who just makes boomerangs in the weirdest shapes. there's a lady whose entire hobby is fixing old nail polish. a person who really fucking loves zebra finches. a lady who is crocheting anything that remotely resembles yarn including barbed wire.

like. there's so many people out there and they're doing so many things and i love it. if the internet gave us anything, it's the knowledge of there Always Being A Guy For A Thing, whatever that thing might be.

[hezraela]

You know you've been to long on YouTube when you know about most of theses guys that does one thing!

Like what do you mean I know who you're talking about just by reading their description!?

[average-smoothie-enjoyer]

My favorite “humans are space orcs” idea is that trope where aliens kidnap some humans for their zoo, except it ends up like Jurassic Park. And the poor Alien Humanologists who were invited to the park are like:

“You mean you locked up a pack of curious, highly competitive persistence predators with NO enrichment in the enclosure? You FOOLS! If you had bothered to throw a basketball or half a box of Legos in there, KE-X9 would still be alive!

“Well of course they climbed the retaining wall! Did you think to study their evolutionary lineage AT ALL?”

[what-even-is-thiss]

The humans would find a way to use the basketball and legos to escape. I mean one time a guy somehow escaped from a prison in Mexico without breaking any laws so his escape would be legal so honestly given enough time the Jurassic park situation is inevitable.

[elidyce]

Jurassic Park would be awesome, but now that I think about it I also kind of love love the idea of humans as the alien zoo equivalent of those octopuses that climb out of their tanks and wander around taste-testing other exhibits or throwing sub-par shrimp at handlers. 

Like they’re totally unable to figure out what’s happening because the cameras keep going out, but every night things get moved, or stolen, exhibits are disappearing, WHAT IS GOING ON, they’ve moved facilities twice and it’s still happening, are they haunted, are the ancestors angry, WHAT IS HAPPENING!?

And then a weary humanologist is all ‘… your humans are getting out’. 

“That is impossible.” 

“They’re getting out.” 

“That enclosure is COMPLETELY SECURE.” 

“And yet somehow they’re getting out.” 

“THE HUMANS ARE NOT GETTING OUT.” 

“Oh yeah? I bet you twenty glarks they’re getting out. Stay after closing time with me and I’ll show you.” 

*next day*

“… the humans were getting out.” 

“… why did they keep going back in, then?!”

(In a deeply embarrassed mumble) “They said they weren’t going to escape until they finished their behavioural experiments. Uh. On us.”

[weaselle]

two things come to mind:

1 - at our own zoos the MOST notorious jail breakers are the orangutans, who exploit all manner of methods, including literal lock picking. One orangutan, Ken Allen escaped several times WHILE THE ZOO WAS OPEN TO THE PUBLIC without getting caught by watching Zoo employees, even when they tried to disguise themselves as tourists to catch him at it. While he was being “secretly” surveilled, he managed to escape AND show the other orangutans how to escape. They finally found out he was doing some thought-to-be-impossible rock climbing to escape. To fix it, they brought in a team of human rock-climbers to locate all possible methods of climbing out. So. Humans would absolutely be the worst to try to keep contained. Like, “escape rooms” are currently seen as a fun date idea. I’m sayin.

2 - animals that escape most often return to their own enclosure (after all that’s where their beds and dinners are, and if the zoo is any good it is the place best suited to their species-specific needs for miles and miles) after they have had sufficient excitement. Ken Allen the orangutan would escape and wander around the zoo looking at the animals like he’d bought a ticket. So if the keepers were nice, and formed a bond, and the set up was comfy, once the human knew they could get out if they really wanted, they’d probably go back, depending on how uncomfortable/dangerous the alien environment was.

I mean if they were raised in captivity. Wild-caught humans, all bets are off; depending on age of capture a return home could be a full blown obsession, the sabotage of engineering from mechanisms up to entire facilities is a strong possibility, and they may go on a murder spree with improvised or stolen weapons if desperate.

[asteroidtroglodyte]

Humans consider an Escape Room to be a Fun Courtship Ritual

[hezraela]

OK so this is a long shot but I started the eric linnaeus books series and first of all : go give it a try it'a a great series!

Next I want to talk about a headcanon I have about the twins : despite everything that might have happened in their youth ;) (I'm not spoiling go read it if you want to know) ;) they both know how to play the piano and from time to time they play together 4 hands style and depending on their mood they're either very calm and concentrated or fight over the keyboard of the piano!

(little bonus for those who wants to go look for it : search for Lucas and Arthur Jussen! I don't think you need a lot of imagination to see the resemblance!)

[skoliopendra]

happy immortality day !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[winniebee]

alternate dsmp ending where it’s like wreck-it-ralph and when the nuke goes off it’s gradual and everybody actually has time to see it happening and they run far enough to “leave” the server so they dont die but when they get to that border cdream is the only one who physically can’t cross because he’s intrinsically tied to the server and thus cannot leave it

[atlantis-lore]

The gang is all here